Collision
by CoffeeCream
Summary: Healer-trainee Florence is held captive at Malfoy Manor after the Battle of Little Whinging. She is forced to live with our beloved Malfoys and becomes involuntarily involved in the end of all things.
1. Entrée

**Chapter 1 – Entrée**

**A/N**: Alright, folks, this is my very first own story here and it is just a thought that mooched in my head and I decided to write it down. End of story xD. As I have written in my profile, English is not my mothertongue, but I just wanted to see if I could manage this beautiful language, known perfectly well by all you english-native-speakers, who I desperately beg to correct me whenever necessary and possible. Please forgive me my unintended maltreatment of the English language, from time to time. Critiques, both positive and negative, are welcome. Thank you  .

**Disclaimer**: Come on, if I really owned Harry Potter, would I be sitting here, writing a Fanfic on my own novel? Really, that would be weird... .

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Usually St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries was crowded with people: more or less severely injured witches and wizards strolling around the floors, visitors of course... sometimes wondering where they should head and always busy healers in lime green uniforms, running around, studying a patient's file or diagnosing the strangest of maladies. As well as crowded it was usually lit by sunlight falling through high windows on the corridors and patients' rooms, which sometimes had floating, shining crystal bubbles clustered at the ceiling, illuminating.

However, now, in the middle of the night, it was not. In fact, it was as dark as a vampire's cave and just as eerie, at least for those not used to muffled moans of pain or a desperate cry here and there caused by both horrid jinxes or a simple fever.

The only audible sound right now came from Florence's heels clicking on the floor as she walked her way, led by her wand, lit by the _Lumos_ spell, through the halls of the fourth floor of St. Mungos. During her training here she naturally became used to the atmosphere present at day as well as night, but still, she might add, she favoured the former. For now it was quiet, an hour ago she had been called to an emergency patient, brought into the hospital because he kept rambling on about tap-dancing teakettles threatening to burn down his house, while his extremities had a mind of their own, cramping and winding uncontrollably. Obviously he had suffered several curses and had been _obliviat_ed, so that he could neither tell the staff his name nor who attacked him.

To be honest he didn't even have to tell Florence who attacked him for she already knew. Everyday people were brought in with horrible injuries, some have lost their minds and some, the worst case, were just there to be pronounced dead. Sometimes she thought she couldn't stand all the blood, cries and pain, but then again, are there any better possibilities to help people in times of war, than to ease their pain and calm them down, giving them a save place to sleep after they experienced Merlin knows what kind of inhuman and unmerciful maltreatment ?

The horrifying condition some patients were in spoke for themselves, for they just left no space for doubts that Death Eaters had to do with most of the victims delivered to St. Mungo's.

Whenever there was somebody brought in with he slightest hint of having suffered a Death Eater's attack, the healers had to inform the Ministry about it. Horrible enough, a few seconds later a whole bunch of people would apparate and rush around, asking the poor patient dozens of questions to get up-to-date information where they should look next for those belonging to the evil kin of Death Eaters.

It seemed as if the only chance of getting to lock them up consisted of more and more injured people, it seemed as if the Ministry clung to every patient as if it was the last straw to grasp at in order to find those, who frightened the wizarding world for over 2 miserable years now. How macabre, really.

Florence walked down the corridor and listened closely, if she could hear anything unusual, but as usual Mr. Flibber from Room 251, in stationary treatment due to a very severe form of dragon pox, snored like a woodcutter and from outside she heard a few owls hoot.

She turned right into the room where all necessary potions and pills were stored, right next to the library. Her wand still illuminated her surroundings, but she would have known her way around even without light.

She silently hummed a merry tune while checking for an anti-snoring potion for Mr. Flibber, when suddenly someone grabbed her from behind. She gasped for air but her mouth was immediately covered by a large, leather-gloved hand. "Not one word if you know what is good for you" a deep male voice said into her left ear. The man behind her was awfully close, tall and obviously much stronger than she was. She could smell the clean smell of soap over a musky, male scent and didn't like it at all. Another voice, maybe a few meters away muttered _Expelliarmus_ and she was disarmed. She couldn't move. She couldn't scream.

* * *

He sat in an armchair in the corner of the salon, watching the people around him. His mother, tall, slim and elegant stood next to her sister, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. She said something to Bellatrix but he couldn't understand what it was. His aunt's eyes stared into space, he could not tell if she heard her sister's words or not. He watched her closely, the still insane expression in her eyes worsening the way they were widely opened, because of fear, excitement or pure lunacy, Draco didn't know. She held a glass of expensive, dark red wine in her shaking hands but hadn't touched it yet. He took a sip of his own and saw Professor Snape talking to Avery in a hushed voice. Avery listened with a stern expression on his face, obviously concentrating on what he was told. They stood next to one of the huge windows, framed by a heavy dark green curtain. Obviating a little, he could see the full moon outside that threw a tiny amount of light into the salon, which was dimly lit by a floating chandelier. Although everyone tried to act naturally he could still feel the tension in the air. He looked back at his mother who now went over to the tray to fill her own glass when they heard a mark shattering scream from upstairs. Immediately, Bellatrix threw her glass against the wall and started to scream as well. "Help him... Help him!" she shrieked and flung towards the door but Snape was quicker, moved in front of her and grasped her by the shoulders. "Stop it, Bellatrix. You can't go upstairs, we will have to wait until Lucius and Dolohov return. I gave him a potion against the pain but he was severly injured, now sit down!" he ordered in a harsh, inpatient voice and shook her. How often did Draco hear those words from Snape in the last 30 Minutes, but Bellatrix was too off-the-wall to understand. Narcissa reached her sister, put an arm around her shoulders and led her towards the corner where Draco sat. She guided her next to his armchair and set her, with a gentle push, down on the sofa. Draco stood up and went to fill a new glass with wine for his aunt. Although it seemed like a caring gesture, he didn't really want to sit one second longer than necessary next to this madwoman. His mother looked at him with an appreciating expression on her face, her eyes softening, as he handed her the glass. Narcissa took it and placed it in Bellatrix's hands.

Draco never understood the relationship between his aunt and uncle. There was no sing of love, affection or at least attraction between them. Neither he discovered hatred or disaffirmation but it seemed, as if they simply ignored each other. He guessed, Rodolphus knew that Bellatrix would never be able to feel anything for her husband, but obviously he didn't care at all and, if he believed his father, had a lot of distraction in the shape of half a dozen blood young, pretty girls waiting in their beds for him.

That is, why he was deeply wondered by her behaviour. Of course, Rodolphus had been severely injured by one of those damned Aurors and it really didn't look good, but he would have never expected this kind of emotion coming from his aunt, who actually only cared about herself and most of all, her beloved Voldemort, who she fanatically admired. But obviously she did care for her husband's welfare.

The plan had not worked out as they would have hoped. Although the Order tried to entrap them by using Polyjuice-Potion to transform some of them into six other Potters, they still weren't fooled and the real Potter, being as empty-headed as he usually was, quickly revealed himself by using _Expelliarmus_. Sometimes Draco really wondered about some people's stupidity. Even Shunpike figured out, that he was the real one. However, the Dark Lord had tried to kill him, but there were too many Aurors protecting him, along with that idiot of a half-giant. As far as he knew, the Dark Lord still managed to get one of them killed, but he couldn't tell who it was.

Lucius didn't want him to go with them, but to stay at the manor. If something, contrary the expectations, went wrong, he wanted Draco to accompany Narcissa to Belle Lumiere. Although they had_ Imperius_ed several members of the Ministry, it was better to be careful.

When they returned, Yaxley and Goyle carried a barely conscious Rodolphus, who left a blood-trail behind him, while the others went straight into the salon and reported what has happened. They had brought Rodolphus upstairs into one of the guest rooms and Snape had immediately followed them to treat his wounds.

The Dark Lord had floated into the room shortly after. Although he moved with the same grace as usual, his dark thin robe that hid the unimaginable body underneath, waving around, his movements and facial expression revealed utter rage. Everyone in the salon immediately raised from their seating and kneeled down. Silence. The tension unbearable. Although Draco didn't exactly feared him, he still couldn't manage to look up, look into those red eyes that now glistered madly. The Dark Lord had walked in between his loyal kneeling servants, some of them kissing his robe when he passed them and started to speak in a hissing, quiet voice.

"Ah, my friends... today was not a lucky evening for us. As you have witnessed, Potter slipped from my hands when I almost had him. But, as I unfortunately must add, that would not have been, if you would have proven your loyality." He turned around and raised his voice: "Where were you, Nott? I told you to stay behind me. Now, did you do as you were told?" He stopped in front of Nott, who kept his head down, but Draco could still see he had become white as a sheet of paper as soon as the Dark Lord had said his name. "N-No,my Lord." he answered, his voice shaking. "And why, I might ask?" Voldemort asked further. Nott did not answer immediately. "I was distracted by ... Shacklebolt I think. He tried to stupefy me, I had to fight him. I am sorry, my Lord, deeply sorry". He kissed his robe. To Draco it had been a mortifying, highly distasteful image. If he could not stand one thing, it was humiliation of grown up pure-bloods, like Nott was. I just was not right, considering Nott's blood status, which was the same as everyone's present, to be this humble towards any other person. "Do you consider this ´loyal´?" the Dark Lord asked darkly. "No, my Lord." Nott answered, his voice almost cracking. He knew what was coming. Sensing his servant's fear, the Dark Lord continued: "Oh no, don't worry, I will not kill you. " Nott exhaled deeply. "You are one of the oldest wizarding families known in England, my dear Nicholas. Besides you have a beautiful wife capable of bearing many heirs, killing you would be a tremendous waste of blood, wouldn't it?" he turned his lipless mouth into a cruel, wicked smile. "Thank you, my lord. You are too gracious." Nott was about to relax a little, when Voldemort turned around to keep on walking between the still kneeling, remaining Death Eaters. But then, he unexpectedly turned around again in the quickest of motion . "_Crucio" _he bellowed, pointing his wand at Nott, who immediately fell on his side, screaming and winding in pain. Draco looked aside towards his mother, who had closed her eyes, brows furrowed. After several long minutes, the Dark Lord stopped and Nott lay still, not moving an inch. Voldemort took a few steps towards Nott, turning him on his back with a bare foot, cruelly smiling down at him. He chuckled. "You must understand, my dear Nicholas. I have to set an example. Otherwise, soon everyone here will do as he wants and won't follow any orders of me, whom you all –", he turned around and spoke to all present, "took an oath to." No one dared to breath or to move. The Dark Lord stood in front of one of the large windows and looked outside for a moment. Finally he spoke: "That is it for now, my dear friends. I will summon you all soon again." With that, he turned around and started to walk towards the door, when suddenly Bellatrix raised, ran at his side, threw herself on her knees, taking his robe in her hands and rubbing it along her cheek. "Please, my Lord, let me come with you. You know I am not like them, you know, I would do anything for you, my Lord, please don't leave me here!" she begged. Draco had to concentrate on Quidditch in order not to turn red with anger, this woman was really unbearable. Voldemort looked down, smiled again, but not that cruel this time. It was almost that kind of a smile a father gives his children when they beg him not to go away: gentle, amused, but still not taking them seriously. He put a thin, long-fingered hand under her chin and made her look into his eyes. He gently stroke her cheek. "Yes, my love, I know. But you have to stay here. I want you to stay here. And did you not just tell me, you did everything I asked you to do?" "Yes, my lord. Indeed I did." Bellatrix answered, her voice trembling of emotion... lust, love, submissiveness. The Dark Lord chuckled, turned around and left. Bellatrix still sat on the floor like a child, pouting, with a tear or two sliding down her cheek.

All of this had happened almost an hour ago. After the Dark Lord had left, Snape came downstairs again, only to announce that they couldn't manage to stop Rodolphus's bleeding and he needed medical attendance. Lucius and Dolohov quickly decided to apparate to St. Mungos to "fetch" someone and with a quiet _pop_ they disapparated.

After Narcissa had helped her up, Bellatrix now sat on the edge of the sofa, a calm, almost dreaming expression on her face, staring at the wall. Sometimes she would open her mouth as if to say something, but closed it again. "My Lord", she whispered, "I am terribly sorry you didn't get what you want". Draco raised an eyebrow at her soliloquies and stood up to go into the library, when he heard someone call his name from down the hall. He slowly walked towards Snape, who stood near the grand staircase. "Yes Professor?" he answered. "The two of us will go upstairs to look after Rodolphus, your father and Dolohov will return any second now, and there may be a little help needed."

He silently followed the potionmaster upstairs. "It looks pretty bad. Whoever hit him, did a good job. I stil haven't figured out who it was, but apparently he knew how to use _Sectumsempra_. He lost a part of his nose and three fingers of his left hand. He needs medication and has to be cast under a shock spell that can only be done by healers. All we can do is wait." Snape said grimly. Draco nodded and turned right into the room Snape pointed at.

It was dark, but smelled horribly after burned flesh and blood. Draco illuminated his wand and pointed it at the bed were Rodolphus lay. He had do keep himself from backing away from the sight. Rodolphus face was just a bloody pulp and the sheet he laid on was covered in blood, as were is robes. . Draco saw three gaping holes on the knuckles of his left hand, where his index-, middle- and ring finger had been. His right leg stuck out in a weird angle and he did not move an inch, probably unconscious.

"Do you think he will make it?" he asked Snape, not concerned or even caring, but merely curious if there was any chance left, he and his mad aunt would soon return to their own house. "I don't know" Snape muttered, looking down at Rodolphus. Neither of the two said anything more. After a while, they heard two faint _plops _and turned around, pointing their wands at them, to illuminate the room. Draco saw Dolohov and his father, who held a struggling, whimpering figure, his hand clasped over his or her mouth, from where only muffled cries could be heared.

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Oh Jesus, another **A/N**: Okay, first of all, thank you for reading my very first chapter of my very first story. Or maybe you just scrolled down to see if, beyond all this mess, there was anything to win or something ;) . Maybe I'll become rich one day and you can write me a postcard saying you read my fic and I'll send you a reward. Up until this I would very much ask for your opinion, thoughts and expectations of what I wrote. If you like, please review this story or contact me otherwise. I have a few questions to ask, for I have absolutely no clue on how to write a good, pleasing, thrilling story: Do you prefer longer chapters, not regularly updated, or the opposite, shorter chapters, more often updated? I really plan on updating this story but I can hereby promise that I won't be able to update long chapters regularly, that is the problem xD, that is why I am asking.

Please tell me your ideas of how the story could continue and what you expect of this, I do have a plot formed out in my head but still, I'd like to hear (read) your thoughts.

That is it for now, hugs and kisses,

Nina

P.S. : All spelling mistakes were done on purpose, to increase the reader's entertainment.


	2. Strangers

**Chapter 2 – Strangers**

**A/N: **Guess what, this morning I switched on my computer and, I almost fell off my chair, there were already 2 reviews. Thank you KISx and Kyrie Twilight for your nice words, you two were the very first reviews I ever had in my life, amazing, huh? I really love this site, but there was one thing that almost drove me nuts: It took me ages to figure out how exactly I can add these wonderful horizontal lines, that make reading so much easier. I am sorry, that some of you had to fight their way through a horrible mess of text in the first place and hope, it is better this way. However, since I really don't have a life, I wrote the whole day and here you see the fruit of my work: Chapter 2. I am not really content with the title, but well... I could not think of a better one at the moment. Suggestions are always welcome. Again I ask for correction in spelling, grammar and content whenever necessary. Thank you :) .

PS: Somehow I have this feeling that there are way to many commas in here.

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Florence was blinded by two bright lights, stopped struggling to escape her captors arms and turned her head, avoiding the light. "Finally" the same voice that had spoken to her earlier said. "Now, if you'll be a good girl, I'll release you." Florence stood still and nodded slightly. The hand left her mouth and she breathed heavily. Then, her captor relinquished her and walked past her to stand next to the other figures, who pointed the lit wands at her. She immediately took a few steps backwards and looked directly at the three people in front of her. There were three men, two older, one younger. The left one wore black robes, had a stern face and shoulder-length, greasy black hair. His lips were in a thin line, his eyes looked at her darkly.

The other two looked very much alike. They both had light blonde hair, although the elder man's was longer, had the same height and both gazed at her sharply with a cold, unmerciful look on their faces.

She started to tremble and put her arms around her, their staring sent shivers down her spine. Then, the older blonde's lips turned into a smile, evil and cruel, as if he gloated over her fear. With a flick of his wand, the room illuminated and all three muttered _Nox_. The bright light vanished and Florence took in her surroundings. It was a bedroom, luxuriously furnished. Huge windows, framed by red, velvet, heavy curtains on the right side and dark, wooden panels emblazoned the walls. Next to her stood a sofa and two armchairs on a dark red carpet, the same colour as the curtains. Florence shivered again, there was so much darkness in this room, although now lit, it increased her fear. She didn't dare to look up to her captors. The older blonde spoke again: "Welcome to our modest home." He said, a slightly amused tone in his voice, making and inviting gesture with his arm.

A cold, iron fist clenched around her heart. It was, as if someone had toppled a huge bucket with ice-cold water over her head. She felt cold, numb, a million needles pricking her all over her body. Suddenly Florence realised, who stood in front of her and it pulled the rug from under her. She stared at him, saucer-eyed, unbelieving. She was unable to move, unable to breath.

"We don't have time for formalities, Lucius! Rodolphus is in a very dangerous condition." And as if to endorse this statement, there came a moan from behind them. The man, who had spoken to Lucius rushed to Florence's side, grabbed her by the arm and pulled her towards the bed. She almost tripped over her own feet, while the man who had grabbed her, marched with determined pace, making long strides. With a hard shove, he let go and she stood next to the bed, petrified. She still stared at Lucius Malfoy, recognising the person she hated most in her life.

Lucius, aware of her staring, smiled again and said: "May I introduce myself to you... Florence" he read from her name badge sewn onto her uniform. "My name is Lucius Malfoy and this is my son Draco." He nodded towards the youngest of the three, who still pointed his wand at her. "And this is Professor Severus Snape, a very good friend of the family..." Snape interrupted him: "As you can see, he is seriously injured, now take care of him. He has lost a lot of blood and we don't want to lose him." At this words he raised his cold voice a little, as if threatening her not to refuse what he ordered her to do. Florence looked hesitantly at him and then down on the bed. She saw a heavy breathing man, his face a bleeding mess as was his left hand. She did not want to look at him, she wanted to get out. She raised her head and stared at the door. She quickly glanced at Snape and started to run, but Lucius was quicker; He harshly grabbed her by the shoulders, turned her around fiercely and pulled her against his chest by her long dark-brown hair, so she faced the bed. Her neck was exposed and he put his wand at it. "Do you see this man?" he said in a hissing, angry voice. When she didn't respond, he pulled her hair harder until she whimpered. "You are going to treat his wounds now, or I will personally take care of you." He threatened, emphasising the words "I" and "you". She heard the younger one chuckle, but had already forgotten his name. Her gaze was fixed on the bed and she nodded scarcely perceptible. He shoved Florence and she slowly walked towards the bleeding man, who whimpered slightly. Bloody hell, she thought, I am a trainee, what do they expect?

"Has he been unconscious?" she asked quietly. "Yes." Snape answered. She bent over the man and took a closer look at his face. "I need more light" she said. She heard Lucius mutter "Draco" and the his son approached, lit his wand and pointed at the man's bleeding face. "What's his name?" she asked. Draco wanted to answer, but Lucius anticipated him. "His name is of no importance to you. Now, carry on!"

Florence put her hand on his wrist and felt a slow, but steady pulse. "I need my wand" she said, turning around. The three of them looked at each other silently, pondering whether they could take that risk or not. Florence almost wanted to laugh. Three armed, physically strong men against her and they had to think about it. Lucius fixed his gaze on her, as if he wanted to find out, if she really needed the wand to take care of Rodolphus or just wanted to arm herself. Not taking his eyes of her, he said: "Antonin, give it to her!" Florence noticed for the first time that there was a fourth person in the room. A tall, older man with a long, pale, twisted face and black hair stepped out of the dark. corner He slowly walked towards her and reached into his robe. "Here, missy, here you have your wand!" he leered at her. His voice suggested he was handing her a huge ice-cream sundae. She quickly took her wand and turned back to her patient. "_Defigo_" she muttered and the man lay completely still, he did not move his eyes or remaining fingers or any other limb. "What did you do?" Snape alarmingly cried, when he saw Rodolphus relax and sink into the mattress. He immediately put his wand to the side of her neck, as Lucius had done just a second before. "I warn you, if you do anything to worsen his condition, you wish you were never born!" he hissed. "He is in an artificial coma now, so he doesn't move when I fix his wounds." she said defensively. Snape looked at her in disbelief. "And he doesn't feel any pain." she added. "Do you know what curse hit him?" "_Sectumsempra._" Snape snapped. "Oh dear..." Florence muttered. "I know", he interrupted, "The fingers are lost." "As is his nose" she added. She pointed her wand at his face and said "Imbibo" and the blood slowly vanished from his face, revealing a gaping hole where his nose had been. Part of his cheek had been affected, too. "_Corionascor"_" she whispered and skin grew from the side of the hole into the middle. She then pointed her wand at his left hand and said the same spells. He did not bleed any further but still looked horribly disfigured. Now, she had to fix his leg and did so by saying "_Derigo_". With a violent, loud _crack_ the articulation of his knee jumped back where it belonged and his leg was straight again. With a flick of her wand, a plaster evolved around it. "Alright", she said, "That is all I can do. You can wake him up now."

Snape pointed his wand at Rodolphus and murmured "_Ennervate_" . Florence held her breath. If he did not wake up, she had done something wrong and if she had done something wrong this would be her exitus. Literally.

Nothing happened for a few seconds and Snape glared at her but then, yes, then he opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. She breathed a sigh of relief and took a step backwards. Snape bend down. "Rodolphus?" he said almost gently, "Can you hear me?" "What the hell..." Rodolphus grumbled. "What happened?" putting a hand to his head. "You were hurt", Lucius answered, not very warmly. "This kind, young lady here took care of you." His voice dripped with sarcasm. Rodolphus looked her up and down. He turned to Lucius: "She is not a mudblood, is she?" Lucius face was stern for a moment. Then he raised his eyebrows and looked her directly in the eye. She tried to keep the eye-contact but could not bear it. She looked down and tears threatened to fill her eyes. Lucius understood, sensed her shame and smiled cruelly. "We don't know that.", he sneered, "Young Florence here did not yet bother to introduce herself to us." He must know who she was, she thought. That is why he is humiliating me. That's right, Malfoy, just rub more salt into the wound.

She glared at him. "My name is of no importance to you" she snarled and Lucius started to laugh, but his eyes were as merciless and cold as before. "Manners, my dear, are obviously something you have not heard of before. Considering your behaviour, one could almost think you are, in fact, a mudblood." She looked away from him. He approached her slowly until he stood directly in front of her. He put a hand under her chin and made her look into his eyes. She could see he had grey eyes. Cold, piercing, grey eyes that threatened to look directly into her very soul. "Now, tell us, are you a filthy little mudblood?" Lucius whispered softly, but with clear malice in his voice. Anger gripped her. "Don't you dare to touch me" she shouted and slapped his hand away with fierce. Lucius held his hand in the air for a short time, then let it fall to his side. He sloped his head to the side a little, then smiled, as if she was his little puppy that had done something terribly wrong and he had to think about it's punishment. Then, after a heartbeat or two, his face fell and he slapped her hard across the face. She almost fell back, her head threw to the side. She held her cheek , looking back at him. He was blind with fury. He took a step forward and grabbed her by the neck, pulling her to him. He bend down, his lips almost touching her ear. She could smell his scent again. "I decide when to touch you, mudblood. Don't you forget that." And as if to emphasise this, he traced his index finger along her collarbone slowly. With that he shoved her away and turned towards the door. "Bring her downstairs, Draco. Fenrir will be very pleased when he hears, there is some fresh.. prey".

With that he left. Dolohov and Snape followed him, leaving Florence with Draco and Rodolphus, who now laid back on the mattress, closing his eyes.

Florence did so as well. Her cheek stung painfully. She felt empty, tired, dirty, miserable, alone. She wanted to faint.

* * *

He had watched the scene curiously. He could see, the young nurse was torn between fear and anger, shame and her fiery temper. He had to chuckle sometimes, since she could not hide the anxiety that gripped her, whenever his father spoke to her.

Now, she stood in the centre of the huge bedroom, eyes closed, a hand on her red cheek. When she sensed his staring, she opened her eyes and glared at him. "What are you looking at?" she snapped. He chuckled again. "What do you think I am looking at?" he replied. She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again. She blushed a little, embarrassed, because she could not retort.

He had watched her closely. She wore the lime green uniform female healers always wore, consisting of a knee-length skirt and a not pretty, boring blouse in the same colour. A mass of dark brown curls fell down to her waist, tied back with an again lime green hair-band. A little more green, he thought, and she would look like a frog. She was young, maybe about his age. Her face was pale, almost the colour of porcelain, but had a red streak now, where Lucius had hit her.

She looked outside, into the dark night, then back at him. "Let me go", she whispered, "Please. I- I promise I won't tell anyone. You could just say, you have killed me. I beg you." Her voice quivered. Draco did not have to think a second. "Of course not, do you think I am stupid? You are a captive now, a hostage. I can't just let you go. Besides, you could be useful." "Useful? Why?" she asked carefully. Draco shook his head and laughed. "You do not honestly expect me to answer that, do you?". "_Expelliarmus_"he said and caught Florence's wand with his free hand. She had not expected this and immediately her eyes glistered with anger. He put it inside the pocket of his robe and grabbed her by the arm. She tried to struggle but he was much stronger and taller than she was. "Move" he bellowed and pulled her with him outside. She had to walk fast in order to keep his pace. They walked down the hall to the staircase. Florence realised how noble this house was: there were dozens of portraits and other paintings an the wall, a lot of them had the same light blonde hair and cold stare Draco and Lucius had. The carpet was red, the walls creme coloured.

They came to the grand staircase made of polished wood. Luxurious, fine carvings emblazoned the banister, that framed the staircase as well as the gallery of the second floor. They reached the ground floor, a dark hall that led to several other rooms, but she had no time to orient herself, for Draco pulled her with him. He turned right and led her into the library. It was dark as well but she could smell the familiar scent of old paper and leather.

Draco stopped in the centre an muttered something. A click was heard and one of the huge bookshelves opened, revealing another corridor. A few stone steps led downstairs and torches on the wall lit themselves when they passed. Florence wanted to say something, plead again for her freedom but did not dare when she saw the determined look on his face. All of a sudden, Draco stopped and opened an iron door with a flick of his wand. He shoved Florence inside and closed the door immediately, locking it with a spell. "Good night" he laughed and, from the sound of his steps that became quieter, she could tell he was gone.

Florence sensed straw under her feet that pricked her legs unpleasantly. She expected to wake up from this nightmare any second now, but it just did not happen. Slowly the tears started to come, pouring down her face. She was trapped. Alone. Her stomach growled, she was hungry. And unbelievable tired. Almost in trance she sank down on the floor. She put her arms around her knees. It was cold and wet and smelled of rotten straw and something else she could not name. Maybe it was the smell of all those people that had been held captive here before. Like her. She put her head on her knees and sobbed.

* * *

Hey, look at that, another **A/N: **And, what do you think? I admit, the first chapter was a little easier to write, because I had to keep a close eye on the character development here. I don't want Florence to appear like the super-cool-I-will-save-the-world-and-you-will-just-stand-there-and-watch-in-awe-heroine and Draco should not be too nice. Unfortunately, he is a bit in the background in this chapter, but well... he will have his great entrance on the stage soon, I promise.

But hey, I have to say, I love Lucius in this chapter. I hope he is evil enough. But I wanted him to be evil in a "polite" way, not like calling her too many names or attacking her physically in the first place (that slap was just necessary to add a little drama... besides I wanted to show, that it is indeed possible to provoke him and he flips out). You know what I mean? If not, write me, I'll explain you my thoughts in a short exposé of about 37 pages ;) .

The spells I invented all base on the Latin language:

_Defigo_ - lat. "defigere" - to fix, to secure, to tie down

_Imbibo_ - lat. "imbibere" – to imbibe, to soak up

_Corionascor _–lat. "corium" – skin + "nascari" – to grow

_Derigo_ – lat. "derigere" – to set straight, to put in order

Wonderful language, if you ask me... too bad it's dead..

Well, however, here is my question of the day: Should I put the rating up to "M" already? I really don't want to get into trouble or offend anyone, so please tell me what you think.

That's it for now, again hugs & kisses,

Nina

PS: As always, spelling mistakes were done on purpose to increase the readers entertainment ;-) .


	3. Despair

**Chapter 3 – Despair **

**A/N**: Aloha everyone, here comes Chapter 3! It took me like 4 evenings to write but it is a little shorter than the other 2 I'd say. I know, there are not many reviews, but that is probably, because a Story involving an OC is not that popular, However, I am not disappointed, quite the contrary and still appreciate that you read my modest story. Again I ask of correction of spelling-, grammar- and textual mistakes. Happy Reading!

PS: Too much blood in here ;-) and WARNING: language (just a little, though).

PPS: There are many changes of PoV in here, don't let that confuse you. I tried to write it, so you can tell, whose PoV it is, either Draco's or Florence's.

* * *

Florence lost track of time in the constant darkness that surrounded her. When had she slept, eaten or seen the sun the last time? It must have been ages ago. At least, it felt like that. She had no idea, if she would ever be able to escape this horror, or what her captors would do to her once her service was no longer needed.

After Draco had left her, she had been sitting on the ground and cried, until she fell into an uneasy sleep.

Noises woke her. She listened closely and finally got up. She carefully felt her way to the cold stonewall and took step after step into the direction she thought the unfamiliar sounds came from. Her fingers found the ice-cold iron door and she leaned against it. Florence wanted to shout but all she could do was croak. She was incredibly thirsty. "Please", she whispered, but knew at the same time that the person on the other side was not able to hear her. There must be someone on the other side, she thought, please, for god's sake, let there be anyone. She banged her fist against the door but there as no response. Tears of frustration filled her eyes. But then, all of a sudden, the room illuminated. It hurt and she shut her eyes quickly. Slowly she started to blink and eventually opener her eyes. The cell she was in was square and very small. As she had guessed, straw covered the floor. The wall consisted of huge, dark blocks of stone, glistening in a thin film of wetness. Cold crept from her clothes over her bones into her heart. In the dark, she had still the ability to think of beautiful things. The last time she had been outside in the park, the sun warming her face, her father romping around with her younger sisters and her mother sitting on a blanket under the tree, reading one of her beloved books.

Having helped a patient and seeing the relieved faces of his loved ones, sometimes with kind words, sometimes silently thanking her.

But now, she was constantly confronted with horrid reality, reminding her where she was and most of all what she was. There was a tiny, little torch on the wall that had lit miraculously. The light flickered and she saw her own shadow on the floor. All of a sudden she heard a faint plop and a tray appeared in the middle of her cell. Her eyes went wide. Food. Steaming, hot food. A lot of it.

Florence did not hesitate, not even a split second. She lunged at the tray and bolted down the whole glass of water without putting it down. It could be poisoned, yes, but that did not matter to her at all. She had sworn to herself, she would not take a grain of rice anyone living in Lucius Malfoy's household would give her, but hunger overwhelmed her. She did not care about having given up lastly, all that mattered was to fill her stomach with that delicious food, slowly but steadily warming her from the inside. She took in the pleasant smell that easily covered the nasty one she had smelt before and it almost befuddled her.

Sated, the young nurse slowly leaned back against the wall. Drowsiness overcame her. She just could not keep her eyes open any longer and once again darkness surrounded her. She fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

* * *

After he had brought her downstairs, Draco returned to the salon. Snape stood next to his aunt, who still sat on the sofa and apparently had not moved since he left. She stared into space while Snape reported her Rodolphus's condition. Slowly she raised, handed his mother the wine glass and walked towards the door. She mumbled something about "going to look after him...". He stood in the doorframe and nodded slightly when Bellatrix passed him. She stopped and looked up at him. Then, a wicked smile appeared on her pale, once beautiful face and she put a hand to his cheek. He almost flinched at her touch, but kept still. "My darling boy" she whispered, stared at him with her mad, heavy-lidded eyes and finally continued her way to the staircase. Draco followed her with his eyes and wanted to shake his head and laugh at her at the same time. Weird woman, he thought.

Indeed she was. After he had not killed Dumbledore, she expressed blatant disapproval of him to anyone of her Death Eater friends who wanted or not wanted to hear it. They had never been close, except that she had taught him how to use Occlumency. However, he still did not want her to come near him or worse, touch him, like she just did.

His mother looked at him, kindly smiling. He briefly smiled back, turned around and headed for the library. There, he closed the doors and, with a flick of his wand, the fireplace lit with a merrily dancing, warming fire. He poured himself some firewhiskey and sat down in one of the big, comfortable armchairs, staring into the bright orange flames.

* * *

He was suddenly woken up by a horrible, drawn-out, mark shattering scream coming from upstairs. He hesitated a heartbeat and rushed outside the library, where he had fallen asleep. Invisible lights turned on and he ran up the stairs, taking several steps at one time. Again, a scream. It came from Rodolphus's room. He saw his father running down the hall from the opposite direction, his wand already drawn. Draco took out his own and they rushed into the bedroom. It was brightly lit and they saw Rodolphus squirming on the blood covered sheets. He screamed in pain, his blood collecting in a puddle on the floor. "Go, go, fetch the nurse" Lucius shouted. Almost relieved, there was no intruder, he ran downstairs into the library, climbed down the few stone-steps and shouted "_Alohomora_".

* * *

The door flew open, Florence looked up groggily and was pulled up by the shoulder. "Move upstairs" Draco said in a loud voice, pointing his wand at her. "What..." she started to ask, but he interrupted her. "Don't ask stupid questions, now go!" he yelled and she did as she was told. He shoved her in front of him and it began to dawn at her, something terrible must have happened. The lights were turned on everywhere they walked. She knew that way... all too well. They were heading to Rodolphus's room. When they reached it, Draco shoved her inside harshly. She took in the sight and lunged towards the bed. Rodolphus bled terribly from several huge, gaping wounds. She noticed blearily that there were other people in the room, but all she could see was the amount of dark red, fresh blood that soaked the sheets and the carpet in front of the bed. She threw herself on to the bleeding man and pressed her hands on his neck, as well as his left slashed wrist. "Put your hands on his wounds!" she shouted and Draco put his hands on his other wrist and the middle of his stomach. He felt the familiar, warm liquid under his hands, pouring uncontrollably out of the deep slashes.

"I need my wand" she yelled.. "It's in my robe!" Draco responded and Florence saw a woman running towards them, fumbled inside his pocket, found the wand and handed it to her. She took it, although having to release Rodolphus's left arm, the bleeding became heavier again.

"What happened?" a familiar voice said behind them and a fraction of a second Snape stood at her right side. "_Desino_" she cried, the only spell she had learned against this severe kind of bleeding. "Try _Desino_" she shouted at Snape, who pointed his wand at the deep slash at Rodolphus's left wrist and started to repeat her spell.

Rodolphus had paled horribly, his eyes closed, he did not move an inch His breathing became shallower any second. "It is not working" she panicked, "Why doesn't it work?" Suddenly there was an awful gurgling noise. Fear gripped her. She knew that horrifying sound and she knew what it meant. In a matter of seconds his lungs filled with blood. Rodolphus cramped one last time and then his body sank back into the mattress.

* * *

Unbelievingly she stared at the dead men in front of her. There was blood on her hands, her uniform, in her long dark curls, on the bed and the floor. Slowly Draco straightened his back and withdrew from the bed. He turned around. His father's face was calm and expressionless, as so often, His mother hat turned her head away and stood close to his father, she had gripped his arm. Slowly he walked to the bathroom, to which a door on the left side of the bed led, to wash the blood from his hands. For a few seconds the running water was the only sound audible. He dried his hands on the towel and begin to walk back into the bedroom. When he returned, he froze in the doorframe. Bellatrix stood on the other end of the room, that wicked smile still on her face. "Oh, a family meeting I assume. And Severus is here too, how charming" she said in a sing-sang voice. Narcissa had turned around and looked at her. "Bella" she started but the her voice choked. She let go of Lucius's arm, quickly rushed at her side and embraced her. Bellatrix did not put her arms around her sister, but stared over her shoulder at the blood-covered bed on which her now dead husband lay.

Draco looked alternately at his aunt and the bed. He knew what was coming. Suddenly, Bellatrix shoved Narcissa away harshly and lunged towards the girl standing next to his uncle. "You killed him... you killed him you filthy little mudblood bitch" she shrieked and tried to get her hands around her neck, but Snape was again quicker. He put an arm around her from behind and held her back. Florence quickly stepped back, a horrified expression on her face. "No, no I did not" she stammered but Snape interrupted her. "Bellatrix... Bellatrix for Merlin's sake, calm down". Bellatrix stopped struggling after a few seconds, Snape let go and she collapsed onto the floor. "I need to tell my master" she whispered, with dancing eyes. . "He'll know what to do." And then, in an awful slow motion she lifted the left sleeve of her robe and exposed the dark mark on the inside of her wrist. She put a long finger on it and closed her eyes.

* * *

The lights flickered, Florence shivered due to the cold breeze that swept through the bedroom. About 10 figures appeared out of nowhere, all dressed in long black robes, some wore a silver mask. They had formed a circle. All of a sudden, all those present, except her, knelt down. She saw black fog in the middle of the circle. A tall, lean figure became visible. It had turned it's back on her, but she could tell it was bald. Silence. Then, the figure breathed in deeply. The voice, that came out of his mouth sounded like a dreadful hissing, thin and low. "My dear friends... I can not put in words, how glad I am to see you all again." He started to walk between the kneeling persons. "But tell me, what grief captured your hearts?" he said slowly, with an almost sneering tone that suggested, he already knew. Snape answered first: "It is Lestrange, My Lord. He... he just died of his severe injuries" he said carefully.

Florence wanted to put her hands over her ears and shut her eyes tightly, in order to prevent her from noticing his presence. She knew who that was and it made her wanting to die. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. The Dark Lord. Master to all of his loyal, present, kneeling Death Eaters. Voldemort.

She tried to make herself as small as possible so he would never ever in her whole life take notice of her. Although keeping her head down, she sensed that he walked around the room.

All of a sudden, Bellatrix rose from her position and flung towards him. "My sweet..." the Dark Lord said in a low, but gentle voice. She threw herself on her knees in front of him and hid her face in his robe, like a child searches for protection under it's father's coat. He brushed a bony hand over her dark, bushy hair. Their intimacy was short-lived, for the Dark Lord headed towards the bed. He looked down on Rodolphus without any emotion, just took in the sight of his disfigured face and his wounds. The blood started to dry and changed it's colour from a dark red to light red-brown. He shook his head hardly perceptible and with a flick of his wand, a greyish veil surrounded the dead body, which slowly vanished.

No one dared to move. After some time, the Dark Lord spoke again: "What a woeful incident indeed, my dear friends. Rodolphus has always been a loyal servant of mine, although he showed not too much commitment in my plans from time to time. Do we know, who has hit him?" he asked. Again Snape answered. "No, My Lord. We do not know, but we presume it was either Alastor Moody or Nymphadora Tonks, since Rodolphus followed both of them." Voldemort smiled... a smile this time, that revealed utter satisfaction. "Well, it is rather improbable that it was Alastor Moody, Severus. Our friend Mad-Eye did not participate in that unfortunate incident for too long." He paused, enjoying the little anticipation. "He is dead, killed by my very own hands, since you were not able to kill at least one damn Auror." He had raised his voice to an angry tone when he said the last part. Bellatrix looked at him admiringly as he continued. "Due to my skills, one of Potter's most powerful protectors has been put away. But as you all know, I expect much more from you. I expect you not to fear death in order to realise my great plan. Remember, we won't rest until Potter is dead. Think of the good old times, my friends. We want them back, don't we?" He hissed, looking out of the window.

"But, My Lord-" Bellatrix began, "It was her who killed him." The Dark Lord turned his head to look at her and then into the direction she pointed at.

Oh no,no,no,no,no, Florence thought. He is going to see me, please don't let him see me. She tried to make herself even smaller. Too late. She cowered behind one of the bedposts but he had already spotted her. Slowly he started to walk her way, his robes swinging. For the first time she saw his face and wanted to scream. Red eyes stared at her with an evil blaze. His face was white and there were only snake-like flat nostrils as a nose. His lip-less mouth curled into a cruel smile. "Ah, I see we have a guest today" he started nonchalantly. "Where are your manners, Lucius, not having introduced me to your sojourner?" "My Lord, this is a nurse we fetched from St. Mungo's in order to take medical care of Rodolphus. Unfortunately she failed, which led to Rodolphus's death. However, the young Lady never bothered to introduce herself to us." Lucius responded. "Well?" the dark Lord looked at her questioningly. Florence could not look into these eyes, she just couldn't. She wanted to speak, but her voice wouldn't come. "I see" Voldemort whispered. "Since you don't think it is necessary to have a little chat with us, I presume I should help you along."

And then, quicker than a snake's bite, he pointed his wand at her and bellowed "_Crucio_". She had never felt such an intense pain in her whole life. It was, as if someone send thousand of electric shocks through her body, her mind went blank. She had fallen to the ground and struggled and squirmed, desperately trying to escape the pain. She wanted to plead him to stop, but all she could do was scream. As quick as it had started, the pain vanished again. Panting, she lay on her side. "Please..." she started. She could not speak any further. If she could have, she would not have not what to plead for. Her life? She was in the hands of the darkest wizards of all times. Why would he probably spare her miserable, lousy life when he had destroyed and extinguished so many more before? He seemed to be able to read her thoughts: "Oh, look at that. Isn't that just too touching? I assume, our little nurse her does not want to die." he sneered. "You seem to forget that there are even worse things to experience than death." Some of the Death Eaters chuckled. "So, after I gave you the options, would you now care to tell us, who you are?" he asked in a sing-sang voice.

Finally Florence gave in. "F-Florence DuBois." She whispered, her voice very weak. "Hm... I have never heard of that name before. French bloodline, I assume?" he asked in the same voice. Stupid, Florence thought, how popular is that as an English name? She did not answer. Then, all of a sudden, a figure raised and took a step towards them. "My Lord, may I speak?" the man asked in a low voice, pulling down his hood. Florence vision was blurry, she could not concentrate on the person, but his voice, sounded very familiar. "What is it, Blaise?" the Dark Lord had turned around. Blaise tried to enjoy the moment, in which he was the centre of the attention, a bit longer. "She is not, who she says she is." He paused. Then a malicious grin spread over his face. "This, my dear friends, is most certainly not Florence DuBois. To be honest, she is not even French." He chuckled a little, what an awsome joke that was . She wanted to die. They would find out now. Lucius would finally recognise her. She closed her eyes with dread of what was about to come. "We have the honour to meet today: Fiorenza Fortescora - Also known, as Florence Fortescue."

* * *

What? Another **A/N**: Hell yes, I like that. So, this was Chapter 3. I know things go a bit slow, but I don't want to risk to write down all my ideas and the consequence is, my story has just 5 chapters or so. I hope there weren't too many mistakes and I am sorry for the sometimes monotonously use of words, but my online dictionary is not too inventive.

I already began to write Chapter 4 and this will be Draco's great entrance I think.

Here is a further explanation on the spell Florence used (I am quite fond of this bonus material... it adds some extra sophistication to my texts... readers like that xD):

_Desino_ – lat. "desinere" – to stop, to cease, to desist

Okay, and here are the questions of the day:

1. Who did give Florence that tray with food?

2. And why the hell was Rodolphus so badly injured again?

That is for you to find out, for I already know hehehe .

Please tell me what you think and see you soon,

xxxxx Nina

PS: Guess what? All spelling mistakes were done on purpose to increase the reader's entertainment. Oh yeah, indeed.


	4. Truth

**Chapter 4 - Truth**

**A/N** Wow, that took some time, didn't it? I am really sorry folks, but I had just sooo many exams at school, there was no time for my little baby here.However, I managed to finish chapter 4 and I am not really happy with it. Somehow I think, this is not the best chapter so far. But still, I am, where I wanted to be. Just tell me what you think and happy reading.

* * *

Great. Her cover was blown now. She never, ever, during the rest of her life, wanted anyone to find out who she really was. Especially she did not want one of those evil gits to know. After all it was their fault she had no family left.

Gathering all her strength, she looked up into Lucius eyes. His face was still a calm mask, but this time, it revealed a hint of surprise. Then, he turned his mouth into one of this sneering, evil smiles he usually smiled and opened his mouth to speak: "Really? What a pleasant surprise Miss Fortescue. I just remember a merry get-together with your family a few months ago." Florence jumped up and had to clench her fists, nails digging in her palms, in order not to lunge at Lucius. "Yeah, and it was you who killed them, you miserable bastard!" she yelled. Immediately there were at least a dozen of wands pointed at her. Lucius chuckled. "My, my, you certainly should learn how to keep your temper, my dear. Your family's death was the consequence of an unfortunate series of events. I can not put in words how deeply sorry I am for your loss. I presume, it is not easy for you living without your beloved bunch of blood-traitors." Some of the Death Eaters laughed. "Enough" Voldemort bellowed. The laughter died immediately. The Dark Lord looked at her intensely. Then he chuckled. "I should have known before. You bear a striking resemblance to our friend Florean. The same brown hair and the same coarse behaviour." Some of his followers laughed again. They must have the time of their lives tonight, Florence thought. "Obviously he did not teach you that it is inappropriate to lie." He put his wand under her chin and made her look up. "_Expelliarmus_" he muttered and Florence wanted to kick herself. How could she have forgotten she was still armed? Well, now she had had a wand. She wanted to glare at Voldemort , but did not dare. He gazed at her with his red eyes and she tried to look away but he held her head in place using his wand. It hurt under her chin. "You do miss daddy, don't you?" he sneered. Don't cry, Florence thought... whatever happens, don't let him make you cry. That is the satisfaction he wants. "Don't worry. Their death was not too painful. Your father gave us a great laugh when he tried to protect your filthy mudblood-mother and her brats. In fact, he kept on begging for the life of his family, but unfortunately we could not grant him this bounteousness."

The stinging tear in the corner of her left eye threatened to fall now. How can someone be so cruel? She always refused to believe there was evilness and ferocity in the human kind, but in this very second she was proven wrong. But wait, this ... figure was not human. He was not human at all. There was no life in his eyes, no emotion except coldness and anger from time to time.

Florence looked at the people around her. The young man who had betrayed her still stood in front of the others. She saw Lucius, his face revealed utter amusement. Next to him stood a woman with long blonde hair. Florence recognised her. She was the one who had handed her the wand. The woman did not look at her. It almost seemed as if she was burrowing her head in Lucius's shoulder.

Next to them were Snape and her attacker, the black-haired woman. Snape looked bored, his dark eyes small, his lips still in that thin line Florence had seen when she met him the first time. The woman stared at Voldemort with big, admiring eyes. She almost did not dare to breath in order not to miss any of his words.

There were several others but not one of them said something. No one stood up and supported _her_. Some grinned maliciously, gloating over her fear, pain and humiliation. Others could not await what would happen next, whilst others were totally unaffected by her situation.

She searched for a tiny hint of pity or mercy in their faces, but there was none. Only hate, cruelty and loathing. What about those men around her? Weren't they loving husbands and fathers in their usual life? What was the matter with her that they rather resembled beasts than humans right now?

And then it dawned on her: This was what war was about. You are forced to hate people, although you do not know them. You have to be ready to kill them. Always. Without emotion. And you know what? She felt the same. She hated the people in front of her. Every fibre of her heart detested each and everyone in this room, although she did not know one thing about them. Everything was senseless but so horribly real. And Florence knew where she was. This was war and she was as close to a battlefield as she had never been before. She stood on the other side. She was the enemy.

* * *

"Well, well" Voldemort snarled. "The question is, what are we going to do with you now. We wanted you to take care of Rodolphus's wounds, but unfortunately you were not competent to do so. I doubt that you will be of any further help." He bowed his head to the side and looked at her, actually considering whether to let her live or kill her. "What would you say, Miss Fortescue? Do you want to die?" he snarled. Florence looked down. She wanted to respond. She wanted to scream "Yes", scream, cry and beg him to end her torture, before anyone of them could get up to something. She had had enough humiliation and pain tonight. Her whole body seemed to be sore, her head was buzzing and she felt the horrid urge to vomit.

"My Lord" a rasp voice bellowed. Florence turned her head and froze. The person who had spoken bore a frightening resemblance to a werewolf. A pair of yellow eyes leered at her, there were whiskers around his nose and a mane of wild, felted brown hair framed his massive head. He raised his hand a little and Florence saw long claws at the end of his hairy fingers. The sight sickened her even more. "My Lord", he said again, "I knew a way of disposing her". His voice trembled of anxiety and arousal and he licked his dry lips.

Florence's mind went blank. She had thought it could not have become any worse, but how wrong she had been. Wide-eyed she looked from the werewolf up to Voldemort. She opened her mouth to say something, but again her voice forsook her. She had to hold on to the bedpost, because her knees had become dangerously wobbly.

He'll do it, Florence thought, he will let this animal have me. Her heart threatened to jump out of her body. It felt like ages before Voldemort finally reacted. He grinned maliciously at her. "Hmmm..." he said, enjoying her fear. "What a very good idea, Greyback." Some Death Eaters laughed. "Although" he continued, "You know I detest this barbaric rites you are wont to do". Greyback howled a little, sensing his request would be rejected.

Florence almost wanted to relax and release the breath she had been holding, but her stomach turned when she heard his next words. "However, I do not have a better idea how to get rid of her. And why not grant my friends a little excitement from time to time?"

He laughed.

* * *

The words rang in Florence's ears and her heart almost stopped. She plumped down onto the bed, not caring that she had just sat down in a puddle of blood left by a deceased. Before she could react, the Dark Lord continued to speak. "But I am going to retire now. I do not care what happens to her. Do whatever you want, but do not bother me with it." He walked towards Lucius and talked to him in a hushed voice "Just make sure no one notices. I am not particularly fond of having to meet some miserable Aurors who could interfere in our plans again!" "Of course, my Lord" Lucius answered. With that, Voldemort turned to walk towards the door. Bellatrix again made an attempt to run after him but Snape hold her back again. "Stop it, you foolish woman. He said he wanted to retire and there is certainly no need for you to run after him like a 4-year-old." He hissed. Bellatrix angrily winded out of his grasp and shrieked in her strange, high voice: "Get away from me, traitor. I know exactly what you are up to." She pointed at him with one of her long fingers and continued maliciously: "I know you will be the one who betrays us. You have never been as loyal as I am to him, you are a miserable example of..." "Bella!" a soft voice interrupted her. Narcissa came and put an arm around her shoulder. "Come on... I'll get you to your room. You must be awfully tired. This has been such a horrible night for you". Bellatrix again struggled herself free. "Stop patronizing me, sister. I know very well how to get to my bedroom myself!" she had turned her head and glared at Narcissa with her mad eyes. She then started to stagger towards the door, quietly talking to herself, laughing quiet, but maniacally in between.

* * *

After the Dark Lord vanished, the Death Eaters started to talk immediately, discussing what had just happened. How strange the difference was: A few seconds ago, you could have heard a pin drop and now the room almost burst with the medley of dozens of voices, loud and clear or hushed and muffled. Draco still stood in the doorframe and had observed the scene.

Bellatrix left and his mother glared her way, shook her head slightly, then turned around. She looked at him, he rolled his eyes exaggeratedly and received a smile in return. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and leant casually against the dark, wooden frame. His father talked to Dolohov in a quiet voice, who nodded his head vividly. Then the two men shook hands and Dolohov disapparated. He then walked towards his mother, put an arm around her, kissed her temple and said something to her quietly. She smiled at him, nodded as well and walked towards the door. Before she left, she turned around and looked at him, mouthing "Good night". He smiled briefly and adumbrated a tiny wave with his left hand.

Slowly, the room emptied. Some Death Eaters bid their farewell by nodding curtly in his direction, others just left. Not that he cared.

To his left, the nurse still sat one the bed, looking pale and haunted, as if she had seen a ghost. He bluntly ignored her and started to walk towards his father, who was busy with seeing off the Carrow siblings.

They disapparated and Lucius sighed irritated. Draco chuckled. "Their presence is just too pleasuring." "Horrifying examples of purebloods", he answered, "not more intelligence than a tin bucket." Draco changed the topic. "What are we going to do with her?" he eyed Fenrir Greyback, who lingered in the dark corner. Saliva ran of his mouth, dropping on the floor, and he stared at the girl greedily.

Lucius thought for a moment. "I could not care less. Besides, I have much more important things to handle here, than the fate of a subject as unimportant as she is. Leave her to Greyback, at least he'll be busy for sometime then and won't get on our nerves." Draco remained silent and looked at Florence again. Without averting his eyes he continued: "Is that really necessary?" Lucius was stunned. "What do you mean?" he asked. "I mean, is it really necessary to kill her that way. I am aware that we will have to get rid of her anyhow, but why him? He does not deserve it." Lucius stared at him and almost wanted to laugh. "What is the matter with you, Draco? Are you getting sentimental? What do you mean by 'He does not deserve it'?" "He will consider it a privilege, won't he? Usually the Dark Lord feeds victims to Nagini or bluntly kills them with a spell. Now he assigns this job to Greyback, ergo he'll think the Dark Lord is content with his work. But you know he always looks for number one, you know he does not care about honour, promises, let alone loyalty." Lucius frowned. "Don't you think relinquishing the girl to him would have a unpleasant self-glorifying effect on our dear friend Fenrir?" Draco said. Lucius looked at Greyback and Draco could literally see the wheels turning in his father's head. He nudged him with his elbow. "Come on, I know you can not stand him." That hit a nerve. "Show him who really is the Dark Lord's right hand." He said, laughing quietly.

"Alright." Lucius gave in, "but now tell me your fabulous plan. Do you want to keep her in the dungeon? You know what happens, when the ministry finds out we hold someone captive, not to mention some innocent little nurse from St. Mungos." "Don't worry" Draco answered. "I'll take care of that. Maybe I will lock her into the basement again." He paused. "But maybe I'll just keep her as my pet" he said thoughtfully, not without a hint of irony. Lucius grinned slyly. "There is the Malfoy-spirit inside you, son, do whatever you want to. Just make sure, no one notices." He repeated the words he had heard earlier.

* * *

Draco walked towards the bed and pulled Florence up, gripping her elbow harshly. Fenrir jumped up ,baring his teeth. "Fenrir, old friend" Lucius said nonchalantly, blocking his way. "Why in a hurry? You do not possibly consider having a firewhiskey or two in the library, do you? To the good old times?" he laughed half-heartedly. "I am sorry, Lucius, I have business to finish" Greyback responded, looking over Lucius shoulder where his prey was heading. "Ah, I am sorry but we just changed the plan. Draco expressed his interest in the girl, you know, and she is quite pretty, isn't she?" he said in a sing-sang voice. "You know how the youth are, they still need to sow their wild oats, don't they?" Greyback started to make an attempt passing Lucius, but the latter quickly pulled out the wand of his cane. "Now, if you please..." Lucius tone darkened. Greyback howled, but did not dare to attack Lucius. He knew their places in the hierarchy, and he also knew that he still was beneath Malfoy senior. Unfortunately.

He just disapparated.

* * *

Hey! Do you see that? She does it again, another **A/N**: Okay, that was it. Man, you are good, sticking with my horrible grammar and funny mistakes (which number I could decimate, thanks to KISx, who really helped me a lot, big hug) for 4 chapters now.

Alright, as I said, this is my starting point and from now on we will have, what you all think we have, and especially, what I want to have: Right, a little romance . A deep, never-ending love between me and this story. ...

Any questions? Feel free to write me and thank your for reading. As always, please correct me, if you spot mistakes of any kind.

Hugs and kisses to everyone who needs some, Nina

PS: Silly me. I'd almost forgot: All mistakes were done on purpose to increase the reader's entertainment.


	5. Quo vadis?

**Chapter 5 –Quo vadis?**

**A/N** Yes, I know. This chapter here took like 5 000 years. I am really sorry, my dearies. Well, I am in the middle of my A-Levels right now and I have to say it is a little stressful from time to time ;-) .

However, here it is and I am (again) not really content but I just thought I upload it to see what you think. As always, please tell me about mistakes of any kind you spot.

* * *

Florence was too overwhelmed to say something. A minute ago it seemed, as if Voldemort had sealed her fate and now his two evil followers had changed their minds all of a sudden.

She almost threatened to faint, the agonizing uncertainty killed her. She was cold, awfully tired and her hands were sticky with now red-brownish dry blood. She desperately hoped someone would finally wake her from this nightmare, but somehow it just did not happen.

She allowed Draco to drag her with him unresistingly, she did not bother where they headed nor that she stumbled over her own feet all the time. The only thought in her head was the question of where all this would lead? She did not hear what he had talked about to his father and neither did she have any clue why they had not left her with Greyback. However, was she supposed to be grateful now?

Draco stopped and opened a heavy door. He pushed her inside harshly and with a wave of his wand the floating chandelier illuminated what happened to be a bedroom. He looked at her expectantly, but she made no attempt to move or react. He clicked his tongue, turned around and headed towards the door. "You owe me" he smirked and closed it behind him.

Florence heard him mutter "_Alohomora"_ and with a tiny _click_ she was locked in.

She blinked away the veil in front of her eyes and slowly began to walk into the centre of the room. She was sure it was decorated with an almost ridiculous luxury but all she could focus on was the huge bed on the right side that looked just too comfortable: dozens of fluffy pillows, covered in shiny and certainly warming, white sheets.

Her limbs felt like lead and she headed towards the bed in slow motion. She god rid of her dirty, blood-covered clothes and run her hand over the soft cotton.

Absolutely no sound, except her own movement and breath was audible. She felt like trapped in a vacuum, isolated from the outside world and left alone.

Florence climbed under the sheets and her back hurt terribly when she laid back onto the mattress. But then it felt as if she had died and gone to heaven, a foreign, nevertheless pleasant smell surrounded her; clean, sensual and comfortable, with a hint of rosewood.

First she was afraid that the pictures of what she had experienced tonight would keep on dancing in front of her eyes but there was no time left for thinking. She almost instantly fell into a deep slumber.

* * *

He waited a second or two behind the door he had just closed, expecting to hear anything, but no sound came from inside the room were he had left his captive. Bored, he slowly made his way up to his own bedroom, a faint feeling of tiredness crept inside his bones. It truly had been a long day.

Draco did not want to ask himself why he actually had done what he did, because in truth he did not have a pleasing answer.

Of course, there were some slightly convincing motives for saving her. Firstly, less people would ask questions – if that ever happened, that is. However, he did not consider the Order as stupid as his father did. He could very well imagine a young and noticeable trainee disappearing mysteriously in the middle of the night from St. Mungos would cause some tattle and speculations, let alone suspicion in the ministry.

Unlike Lucius he considered the possibility of loosing this war. In his opinion it was very much unlikely, nonetheless possible. He knew that some Death Eaters talked behind Voldemort's back about supporting the ministry if somehow the tide turned and a defeat would, contrary the expectations, become apparent.

Not everyone was like Bellatrix or his father. If Voldemort told Bellatrix to jump out of a window, she would do it, no doubt. Nott for instance (who was indeed a pureblood, however a very weak example), certainly would not. Instead of following the Dark Lord and obeying his orders, he'd turn around and run, seeking protection in the Ministry and of course giving them all the information they wanted in return. Draco was very much convinced that a part of Voldemort's followers would betray him in order to safe their own miserable butts. But maybe he was just too convinced of his ideal and power that he did not recognise it, even if some of the Death Eaters were incredibly transparent, he could look through their masks like through freshly polished glass. Too often Draco had seen their reactions whenever the Dark Lord addressed them, let alone yelled or used a curse on them. Their fear of him absolutely outweighed their loyalty, which was highly dangerous, wasn't it? Potential traitors, right in their own rows, ready to destroy their plans at any time and whenever the situation would get a little difficult. But then again, wasn't fear one of the most powerful weapons in manipulating?

* * *

Birds sung and the sun tried to break through the huge windows but was blocked by heavy curtains. Florence lay on her side, her hands under her head. Dust danced in the dim light, never resting on the thick carpet that covered the floor in front of the bed. There was so much movement around her, whereas she lay completely still, but rather unable than not wanting to move. She was afraid that if she got up the whole anger and malignity she connected with this household would lash down on her again. Here, under the warm sheets, she certainly must be safe.

How much time had passed since she had been abducted? They would miss her at St. Mungos, wouldn't they? Maybe a patient or staff member had witnessed what had happened and could tell the Ministry who took her and soon somebody would arrive and rescue her.

A split of a second she hoped, maybe the Malfoys would let her go, maybe they would just not know what to do with her and simply let her go. She blinked and was shocked by her own naiveté and cold realization washed over her. Why, for Merlin's sake, would they do that? These are no normal wizards, Florence. You currently are under the same roof with one of the darkest and evilest families ever known in wizard history. If they have no further use for you they will just keep you here to torture you and then, when they are finally bored, kill you and act as if nothing happened.

Why me?, Florence thought, of all the thousands and thousands of wizards they had to pick me. Forced to stay in the house of the one person that was responsible for her complete mess of a life. She hated him with such passion that drove her insane. But still, fear gnawed in her chest. Yes, she admitted it, Lucius Malfoy scared the hell out of her. She wished she would never ever have to face him again.

Just as she was about to close her eyes and tears threatened to fall, somebody pushed open the door behind her burst open and she sat up with a jolt, gasping. Her heart thumped wildly.

In the doorframe, dressed in black robes, stood Malfoy jr., grinning slyly. "Oh, good. You are awake."

Florence opened her mouth to say something but Draco interrupted her. "Get up, it's late. There are clothes in the armoire, you'll have breakfast in a few minutes." Without any other word he turned on his heel, slammed the door behind him and left.

Florence stared at the closed door groggily, wondering if her own mind tried to trick her. When she decided it did not, she flopped back into the fluffy cushions and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. However miserable and hopeless her situation might be, she certainly would not follow orders, much less any from that blonde, slimy git.

Her stomach growled angrily and she turned on her side, staring once again at the curtains. She wanted to get up and open them but could not gather the strength for that. All she wanted to do was stay here in the comfortable bed and be isolated from everything bad. She was afraid that if she opened the curtains and looked outside no sun or green grass or birds would expect her but rather coldness and cruelty.

* * *

He stood behind the door and listened but he could not hear any sound from inside the room. Determined, Draco pushed down the door handle and waltzed into the room. Florence still lay in the bed and had her back turned on him. He waited a second but she did not turn around. "Now, Malfoys don't like to be kept waiting, you know that?" he asked in a low, quiet tone that revealed his anger. No response. He grinned and with a flick of his wand the sheets pulled themselves back and the nurse sat up with a jerk to pull them back and cover her exposed skin, giving a little shriek. She shot daggers at him but Draco laughed and opened the armoire. He reached inside, pulled out a pair of clothing and threw it onto the bed carelessly. "Get up!" he grumbled, looking down at her, "I won't say it again. I mean it." he added in a slightly threatening tone. He saw her swallowing, her eyes moved to the side for a moment, but then she nodded wordlessly.

* * *

Florence hesitated for a moment, a firm grip on the sheets she held in front of her. She would not have put it past Draco to barge in again to annoy her, but if he did she did not want to grant him the pleasure seeing her undressed.

Eventually she got up and went to open the curtains. The sun blinded her and she had to squint her eyes. For the first time she had a closer look at the room she had slept in. She had been right, it was richly decorated. Cream coloured walls, a polished, dark wooden floor and exquisite furniture gave the room a heavy, yet luxurious note.

She walked into the bathroom and had a look at the reflection in the large, antique mirror over the marble sink but nearly backed away at the sight. There was a strange blue and green and yellow coloured bruise on her cheek and dark circles under her eyes. She was paler than usual and with her dark, messy curls she almost looked like a corpse.

After having brushed her teeth and washed, Florence went back into the bedroom. Her eyes fell onto the piece of clothing that lay forgotten on the bed. She picked it up and it turned out to be a plain, yet beautiful dark green, knee length dress. She folded it over her arm and looked into the armoire. In there she found fresh underwear, stockings and shoes, wondering who had put it there. The Malfoys were rich, they must had dozens of house-elves and other servants.

Facing the wall stood a vanity and Florence sat down. She picked up a golden, ornate brush and tried to arrange her hair. She took strand after strand of the long, dark brown curls in her hand and brushed it carefully until she looked acceptable.

Florence opened the door and peeked around the corner but the corridor was empty. Slowly she started to walk towards the staircase that led downstairs, trying to make no sound.

She saw him down on the first floor leaning against the right banister, his arms crossed in front of his chest, facing the huge, oak front door. Florence mentally cursed, she had hoped he would be somewhere else but standing there, obviously waiting.

She slowly took the steps that lead downwards. An awkward feeling in her stomach told her, she would rather run back to her room, lock the door and hide. Everything looked so fine, grand and luxurious but oh so threatening, a cover to all the unspeakable deeds that were done in this house and by the people that lived here. No, Florence really did not want to be here.

But then, almost having reached the floor, she saw something she would not have expected. A tiny, little light at the end of her own, personal tunnel. At the end of the corridor that led to the left, there was a wide opened door, offering her the way into freedom. Draco still had not noticed she was coming down the stairs. She glanced at the opened back door again. If she could just make it outside, maybe she would be able to disapparate. She quickly changed the side she was walking on, from the right she moved to the left part of the stairs. All she had to do was sneak behind Draco's back, who was either too deep in thought or simply too deaf to hear her.

Unsure, she looked behind her shortly but the hall was empty. Putting a hand on the pillar at the end of the banister, Florence turned left and headed towards the door, quickening her steps, once again assuring Draco had not noticed her. She almost wanted to jubilate at this perfect possibility to escape, when suddenly a dark, husky male voice spoke: "Hello little Miss, why in such a hurry?"

She froze for a second, stared at the portrait to her left, another ancestor of the Malfoys who know grinned evilly over the rim of his glasses down on her. Slowly starting to panic, Florence turned around and saw that Draco too had heard what the portrait said. For the split of a second she inhaled sharply, then turned and rushed outside.

There was gravel that crunched under her feet, then lush, green grass that she barely noticed. She heard another pair of footsteps behind her and feared Draco would catch up with her but then he cried out loud in frustration and knocked something over that had obviously blocked his way and Florence gathered some advance. She tried to apparate but nothing happened. Her mind raced. Of course, they had protected the grounds.

Just as she had spotted a huge, iron gate she heard another familiar voice bellowing "_Petrificus Totalus_". She instantly fell down into the grass, unable to move.

* * *

Draco laughed, slowed down and stopped beside Florence, who lay in an awkward position to his feet. "Excellent manoeuvre, father. I could not have done it any better." He grinned at Lucius, who stood on the terrace behind the winter garden and now put his wand back in his robe with a very content expression on his face.

Draco pointed his wand at Florence, murmured "_Incarcerous_" and ropes tied themselves around her hands behind her back before he lifted the full body-bind curse with "_Finite_". Before she could move, Draco grabbed her upper arm harshly and pulled her up. "I'd suggest you think of a better plan the next time. Oh wait, there won't be a next time." He smirked triumphantly.

Florence struggled but his grip tightened. She wanted to cry out loud with anger, she had been so close. If she would ever get these ropes off, she'd cut that damn portrait into pieces.

* * *

Florence had to walk fast in order to keep Draco's pace. Determined and with a firm grip on her arm, he pulled her with him upstairs again and at first she thought he'd lead her to the same room she had slept in last night, but when they reached the top of the stairs, he turned right instead of left.

"You'll never do such a stupid thing again, do you hear?" he hissed. "It is embarrassing... and completely ridiculous of course. If you'll ever be able to leave this house it will be order of one of the Malfoy family members, now will you finally get that?"

He stopped and shoved her inside a room. He stepped behind her, grabbed her chin and turned her head towards another door leading to the right. "Do you see this door?" he asked in a low voice. "It leads directly to my bedroom. I warn you: If you ever behave like that again I'll notice from now on. To be honest, I'll be able to follow every single step of yours, so don't you even try." He grinned slyly and let go of her face as if something had burned his hand.

Florence clenched her fists and glared at him but Draco just turned and closed the door behind him.

Furious, she picked up a porcelain vase from the table, threw it against the door with force and it shattered into hundreds of little pieces that scattered on the floor.

Draco rushed in again immediately. "Hey" he said annoyed."That was expensive-" "Shut up!", Florence yelled, "Just shut your mouth, Malfoy. I am not afraid of you nor your lousy miserable example of a father." That was a complete lie. She gritted her teeth "You can not harm me any more.", she began, " And you know why? Because you already destroyed my life." She laughed hysterically. Draco opened his mouth to respond but Florence interrupted him. "What? Are you going to deny it?"Draco took a step closer and scowled at her. "It was not me who killed your family" he said, his voice calm and emotionless but very clear. "So what? Do you think that saves you? Voldemort will never ever win this war" she hissed. "And when all this is over it will be your responsibility." She snatched at his left arm, hoicked his sleeve ad held the Dark Mark in front of his face, her fingers closing tightly around his skin. "Here is your proof" ,she said, "And I hope it will always remind you of what you have done." Draco withdrew his arm with force, shoved her away harshly and pointed his wand directly in her face.

"Go ahead" she whispered hoarsely, far more courageous than she felt. "Your father and his companions tortured and raped and murdered and you know that perfectly well." All her anger at this family came up and Florence could not keep herself from expressing it. "I have seen his victims and those from your bloody Death Eater friends and you have no idea what it was like. Because you just hide behind daddy's back like the coward you are." A muscle in his cheek twitched. "And that makes you as much a murderer as he is." she spat.

At first Florence thought Draco would curse her with any spell that came into his mind. If possible he had become even paler but his eyes glistered with fury. But then, all of the sudden, he lowered his wand.

"Exactly" he growled ironically. "And that is why you are still alive." With that, he whirled around, slammed the door behind him and left.

* * *

**A/N** Tada. What do you think?

Guess what, the beautiful English language can be a bit tricky some time, so to all native speakers, here you go:

Is 'noticeable' the correct word in the context I used (when Draco thinks about Florence's disappearing from St. Mungos)? It must not sound too positive, I just wanted to express that people would not miss her being missed xD. You know what I mean? My dictionary said 'remarkable', 'outstanding' and 'noticeable' and I chose the latter because the other too are too positive and admiring...

Is 'to hoick' a word? My dictionary says it is, my spell checker however does not... I admit I am a little confused now...

Thank you very much for reading and I wish you all a happy new year *big hug*.

All the best and take care, yours Nina

PS: I'll tell you about my New Year's pledge: Finishing this story :-) .

PPS: You know the thing about the mistakes and the entertainment..... right?


	6. Compassion

**Chapter 6 – Compassion**

**A/N** Welcome back! ATTENTION: Rating changed to M! If you feel offended by this, please don't continue reading. Thanks!

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* * *

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Two weeks later Florence thought she would slowly go insane. She could imagine what prisoners in Azkaban felt like- driven mad by social isolation. The difference between her and a highly criminal inmate was, that she didn't live in a little, dumb, smelling cell in the middle of the North Sea but a fancy, richly decorated room in the house of one of the wealthiest wizard families known. However, this fact did ease her despair and dispiritedness not a bit.

How could she loose just so much time? Every night she waited for the daylight to sneak through the curtains and every day she wondered when finally night would tell her it was the end of a long, boring, uneventful day. By now, she knew every nook of the room, every fibre of the mattress she slept on at night. You have no idea what she would give to be able to finally speak to someone. If there wouldn't appear a tray with little, yet tasty food twice a day , one could have thought people had forgotten her.

When Florence looked out of the window she felt like she was trapped inside a beautiful painting: Trees and flowers in bloom, competing with each other for which one was the most gracious. There was a lake behind the thick forest that surrounded the garden, the most precious and wonderful garden Florence had ever seen. Well, although she had just seen the part that laid in her view from the windows, she could still tell it was beautiful. She was sure the lush grass's colour had been improved magically as well as the roses, the dozens of roses in all kind of shades framing a pebble path leading to a huge marble fountain. Nothing and no one disturbed this view, not even the Malfoys.

She knew by now that Narcissa took a walk every day. She pranced along her property like a lioness in her territory, sometimes accomplished by her son, sometimes by her husband. However, today it was neither of those two clones but another lady. She was slim and her skin had a dark, sun kissed glow. Narcissa gestured upwards and the woman looked in her direction. When Florence saw her face, she immediately knew she was the mother of the young man, who had given away her name. They had the same soft, yet handsome features. Narcissa took her arm and they headed for the fountain. If she could just remember the woman's name! She could swear on Merlin's wand she had seen her before, as well as her treacherous son. How could he possibly know her name?  
After the murder of her family the Ministry changed her identity completely. She got a new surname, was born in a little town near Marseille and her "parents" were muggles. She even got a new brother called Jean. She never met them, Florence wasn't even sure Louis, Yvette and Jean DuBuois even existed. However, the Aurors made sure the name "Florence Fortescue" got cancelled in every file, they disposed of her birth certificate, they even erased her from the family pictures in her aunt Loretta's living room. She just didn't belong to the family of the well known and popular owner of the ice cream parlour anymore. Of course, Florence rioted, cried and rebelled, but this very nice man, Remus Lupin, had explained to her it was for her own safety. Finally, nobody would have thought of a connection between her and the murdered Fortescues. That was why it stunned her so much there still was somebody who knew her real name. And frankly, it scared the hell out of her. Didn't this just prove people could not be safe? The Ministry tried and tried but the dark side was still stronger. But then again, wasn't she already in the house of her family's murderer? How long would it take them to get rid of her as well?

It knocked on the door. Florence turned around. She has been locked in here for two weeks, who could possibly _knock _on her door? When she didn't answer, it knocked again, not very loudly, rather cautious. Florence cleared her throat. "Yes?" she said insecurely. The door opened and a tiny house-elf stood in the doorframe.  
He wore a shabby, navy striped pillowcase and his long ears hung down on each side of his head. He looked at her with watery eyes the size of tennis balls. "Miss Florence, Miss?" the house-elf squeaked, "Master Lucius says, Miss Florence must come to the library in half an hour, Miss." Florence stared at him. "What?" she said. "Master Lucius says, Miss Florence must come to..." the elf began again, a desperate look on his face. "Yes, yes, I understood that!" Florence snapped and regretted it instantly. The poor creature wasn't responsible for it's owners' bad habits. "I mean why?" she asked confused. "Totty don't know Miss, Totty just saying what Master Lucius told him to say. Master Lucius says Miss Florence shall not d-dare to stay up in Miss Florence's room, Miss, otherwise..." Totty gulped, "otherwise... M-Master Lucius will... will... argh, Totty can't say it, Miss Florence, Totty can't speak bad about Master and Mistress!" Big tears ran down the house-elf's cheeks and Florence suddenly had to suppress the urge to laugh bitterly. "No, ah...I guess I can imagine what he will do. I got used to those threads already." Totty blew his nose on his pillowcase. "Is Totty allowed to go, Miss Florence, Miss?" he sniffed. "Yes... sure" she replied absentminded. "Thank you, Totty". Tears started to well up in his eyes again. His lip quivered. "So noble, Miss Florence, so noble... Totty is honoured to be your humble servant, Miss!" With that he turned and left. The door slam shut behind him.

Half an hour later Florence didn't even think about going downstairs. Since when did she follow their orders? Although her stomach lurked every time she heard steps on the corridor. She sat in a comfortable, large armchair and looked out of the window, as usual. There wasn't anything else to do, was there? A mysterious orange glow enlightened the horizon. It had the same golden, strong colour like fire. Thin pink and other bluish lines created one, perfect picture. Florence loved it.

„When you are finished staring out of the windows, would you be so kind to accompany me downstairs?" a familiar voice snarled. Florence gasped and wheeled around. Gosh, her heart. „Don't do that!" she snapped at him. He grinned slyly. „Well, since you seem to have some difficulties following kind invitations, I decided to come by for a chit-chat." How could someone have such cold eyes?, Florence thought. She didn't know what to say. „I- I don't want to talk to you!" she finally replied. Draco tried to look impressed. „Merlin, you are SO witty! Teach me, I want to learn." he growled. Florence muttered the worst, Italian curse she could think of. „Grazie, bella mia," Draco laughed arrogantly. „Now move. We are late already." With a flick of his wand she was dressed. „NO!" Florence yelled. „Go and enjoy your bloody evening with your Death Eater scum, but leave me the hell alone!" „Let me think about it - no!" He stepped behind her and shoved his wand into her back. Ouch, that hurt. „You are clearly not in the position to give commands here! Did you ever enjoy the _Imperius_? " he whispered into her ear. The dark voice sent shivers down her spine. „Now, if you please…". With that they left.

* * *

Florence hated,hated,hated this way. She had walked it a few times before and always something bad followed. It was rather chilly and goose bumps crept over her skin. „Alright, alright, you can stop that!" Florence snapped, as Draco continued to pinch her back with his wand. „What, so you'll start a little attempt to escape again? Don't make a fool of yourself." he answered. They reached the library. Heavy doors rose up in front of her. This must be what the gate to hell must look like. Draco gripped her shoulder and waved his wand. The doors opened slowly but without a sound. He shoved her inside harshly.

A warm fire crackled in the fireplace, bathing the room in a comfortable, yet eerie light. This was the largest library Florence had ever seen. Stairs and shelves wherever she looked. Her house would probably be a quarter of this room. „How nice of you to finally join us" Lucius Malfoy said and rose from his armchair. „What took you so long?" he asked, not expecting his question to be answered. He looked her up- and down. Merlin, she hated that. „Well," he snarled, „at least it looks better than frog-green", his look came to rest somewhere on the black dress near her breasts. Florence gulped. „What do you want?" she asked. Her voice gave away all her insecurity. „Ah, nothing in particular" Lucius answered. „Do you have anything against a nice chat?" he grinned. „Take a seat!" he commanded. „I-I'd prefer to stand." Lucius gave a short amused laugh. Then, in the briefest of moments he flicked his wand and a chair sped up from behind her, hit her behind the knees and she had to sit down. „I don't care what you want. Do as you are told!" he said in a father-like, reprehending tone. She heard quiet laughing. There were other people present. Draco of course, as well as Dolohov and another Death Eater she didn't recognize.

„_Delinea_" Lucius muttered and a huge map appeared behind him. „Do you recognize this?" he asked. Florence didn't have to look again. Of course she did. „No." she said, trying to sound unaware. Lucius chuckled. He walked back in front of the map like a teacher. „Maybe you'd like to have another look." Florence acted as if she stared at the map intensely. Everything was so beautifully drawn. The wide-spread gardens, the library, even the visitors-room with the light blue chairs. „No." she said again. „I don't recognize it." „What a pity", Lucius answered, „Your information could be quite useful. We need some information about the hospital and you are the one to give it to us." Lucius said in a matter-of-fact tone. He stopped in front of Florence and stared down into her eyes. His eyes were the same colour that Draco's, maybe a hint greyer. She held his gaze with all her strength, anxious not to look away. „Where are the patients' files stored?" he asked. Florence didn't answer. All she could see were those eyes. The same her family looked into before they died. She wondered, what impression they had seen. The same cold hatred? The same intransigence ? The same arrogance and superiority?  
The corner of Lucius' mouth curled. He lifted his hand and stroke her cheek. „Come on, sweet Florence. Don't be a spoilt sport. All you have to do is answer a few questions and I'll spare your pretty face. His hand wandered to the back of her neck and he clenched it in a firm, ice-cold, hurting grip. Florence winced. „Where are the patients' files stored?" he demanded. „I don't know." Florence said. To hell with her, if she ever gave information to these bastards. „They never showed me." „DON'T LIE!" Lucius bellowed all of a sudden and ripped her hair. He held his wand against her throat. „I said don't lie!" he repeated. „If you lie, I'll kill you!" Out of the corner of her eyes she saw Draco leaning against the wall, his arm leisurely crossed in front of his chest. She didn't know why, but somehow she hoped, he'd come and help her like he had done two weeks ago. But of course he kept standing there and didn't move an inch. Damn him. First, he made a fuss about saving her and now he abandoned her to her fate. Lucius let go of her and turned his back on her. Nothing happened. She didn't dare to breath. What would she have given to be able to look into his evil mind. She hated being helpless, most of all to be at his mercy! „_Exaedifico" _Lucius muttered and slowly two bright orange glowing lines grew out of the floor on both sides of the chair she sat on and winded upwards like snakes. When they reached about the height of her armrests they stopped and the glowing faded. She sat in the middle of two iron wrought pillars. „_Inflammate_" Two strong flames rose up on top of the pillars. Florence felt the heat. She tried to move but it felt, as if she was glued to the chair.  
„Extend your hand" Lucius bellowed. Was he mad? „Wh-what?" Florence whispered?. „You heard me." Lucius answered. He chuckled. „Since you decided not to help us, I am going to help YOU a little. Now - extend your hand!" Florence felt the urge to laugh hysterically. „You are mad!" she cried. „Really?" Lucius growled darkly. And horrified she felt, how her right arm started to develop a life of its own and slowly rose up from the seat. „Stop it!" she yelled. She heard Dolohov laughing. „Where are the patients' files stored?" Lucius asked again loudly. Her hand almost reached the flames. The heat stung her skin. She wanted to snatch her hand away but couldn't move. It kept reaching towards the fire. „No…" Florence cried, her voice a mere whisper.

* * *

The pain exploded in her hand, her mind, white lighting in front of her eyes. She screamed. The smell of burnt flesh made her stomach turn. Her body cramped but there was nothing she could do. „Stop it!" she pleaded. „Then answer my question!" Lucius said calmly. „I- they… „ Florence began. She had never in her life felt so desperate. A voice in her head yelled at her not to say it. Truly, she didn't want to say a word, but couldn't stand the pain. „In the basement, next to the old house-elf quarters." The words sputtered out of her mouth and she hated herself for it. The flames vanished abruptly. Florence couldn't stop the tears from falling - she cried of pain but even more of unbearable frustration. Lucius bent forward. His hand stroke over her hair. „Sh, love, be a good girl!" he whispered. „Was that so difficult?" he asked, as if he tried to calm a child.

The words caught in her throat. She wanted to kill him. „Bastard" she finally cracked. Lucius hand fell from her head. Cold fury flashed in his eyes. He hit her. Hard. Florence tasted blood. He ripped her hair. „Shut your mouth, filthy mudblood. What do you know about Ambrosius Wentworth?" Her mind raced. Why would they want to know something about Wentworth? „Why?" Florence finally asked. „Don't ask stupid questions. He is your chief healer, isn't he? Does he have family?" Florence didn't answer. In a matter of seconds, the fires appeared on pillars again. „You should think before you answer" Lucius grinned. „Does he have children? We really need to convince him of our plans, since he does act a little stubborn - oh no, you don't have to cry! Just answer and everything will be fine." Florence's other hand slowly reached towards the flames, pulled mercilessly by an invisible force. To her eternal humiliation she panicked. „No, no - please!" she cried. That pain. It made her sick again. It seemed to be even worse than the other hand. The flames and the heat etched into her flesh. Horrified she saw that the once tender skin turned a strange brownish colour. She had never felt so much pain before. „Yes-" she cried. „Three, he has three children. That is all I know, please make it stop, please!" Florence thought she would faint. There was a veil in front of her eyes and the unbearable pain crept through her whole body. „Why do you do this?" she cried between sobs. „DON'T ask stupid questions!" Lucius yelled. The flames vanished. He sighed, as if he had done something terribly exhausting. „That's it - I'm bored. Draco, take her away. He turned towards his Death Eater colleagues. None of them had moved an inch during the last minutes „Now, that was interesting. Let's move to the salon, shall we?" he suggested and together they left.

* * *

Draco waited, until he heard the shutting of the salon doors. Then, he slowly started to approach his captive. She sat slumped in her chair, her eyes closed. He didn't want to admit it, but she looked horrible. Her lip was split, not to speak of her hands. He needed to get out, the smell made him sick. „Come on" he muttered, more gently than he wanted to. He gripped her elbow and somewhat held her against his chest - otherwise he was sure, she'd faint. When they left the library, he almost dragged her up the stairs as fast he could. On wobbly legs and rather unconscious she teetered next to him. They reached the upper corridor and although he didn't want to, he finally picked her up. The least he could use was a maltreated nurse breaking together in the middle of his house. With her light body in his arms he pushed down the door handle using his elbow and stepped inside her room.

Draco put her down on the bed and hesitated for a second. „Wait here" he said and closed the door quietly.

A few minutes later, he returned. He cleared his throat and looked at Florence. She lay curled up on her side, her eyes wide open. She looked at him with the brightest blue eyes he had ever seen. Her eyes would have been very beautiful, if there wasn't this matte, veiled, lifeless expression in them. Draco played with the small golden crucible in his hands that contained burn-healing paste. His mother smeared the bright orange, strange smelling ointment on his wounds, whenever he had accidentally burned himself as a child. Also, Madam Pomfrey was quite fond of it. Very useful, if some spell had gone wrong again.

„You probably should use some of that for your hands" he said and put it onto her nightstand. He turned on his heel and wanted to race outside. He didn't want to stay a second longer than he had to. He had almost reached the door, when he heard a muffled sob and a heart-wrenching, painful, desperate sigh. He let out a low moan of frustration and looked over his shoulder. Damn it. Draco went back to the bed and slowly sat down on the mattress, careful not to get to closer than necessary. Tiny, glistering tears trickled out of the corner of her closed eyes, leaving her long black lashes moist. He reached for the small container and screwed off the lid, then dipped his index finger into the paste. No, Draco didn't really want to do this. He looked down on her hands and hesitated for a moment. Then, he finally touched the brownish crumpled skin of her right hand. Florence's brows furrowed and she winced, but her skin turned rosy-pink immediately and except for some tiny scars on the back of her hand, it looked as good as new. Draco proceeded to smear the paste on her left hand and somehow he was a little relieved to see her wounds heal. She carefully wiggled her fingers a little. Then, he put some more ointment on his finger and reached for the cut on her lower lip. It also vanished and Florence licked her lips. Irritated he discovered that the gesture made his stomach jump slightly. „That is burning-paste" Florence whispered, „it is not supposed to be used on cuts." the faintest of smiles appeared on her lips. He was fascinated by her lips. They were very full and of a lush rosy colour „Well, what is good for burns, can't be bad for split lips, can it?" he answered. She swallowed and blinked. „Why do you do this?" she asked weakly. Draco didn't respond. He rose from the bed and headed towards the door. „I honestly have no idea" he whispered without looking back.

* * *

**A/N** Hey guys! Do you remember me? :o) I am at university now and it takes up all my time. BUT - one sunny morning I had a look at my e-mails and I found - A REVIEW! From lovely itsalljustalie and that gave me new motivation to continue this story. And then I discovered I already had a chapter 6 on my computer, which wasn't finished. But I did and here is the result. Thanks for reading and please let me know, what you think.

Oh, here are a few annotations concerning the spells:

_Delinea_ - lat. „delineare" - to draw

_Exaedifico - _lat. „exaedificare" - to build up

_Inflammate - _lat. „inflammare" - to set on fire

Lots of hugs and kisses to all of you and have a good day!

Nina

PS: Yes, I have changed the rating, because torture including burning your hands is just... well.. rather M ;-) .


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